Perfume
by hearts-ablaze
Summary: The Marauder's had always known that the full moon was a risk. Though, it was a risk they were willing to take to look out for one of their own. After a particularly chilly night in late March, James Potter learnt a very important lesson; never turn your back on a werewolf.
1. Prologue

Darkness was just about all he could see.

Which was in truth, incredibly unusual.

Generally he could see everything around him, when he was in his animagi form. His keen stag-like vision meant that he never missed anything. Usually, he could spot Wormtail from fifty meters away. And Padfoot and Moony from much further. Something was wrong, very wrong. It took him a while – glancing around the forest, the only thing he could see was the full moon in the sky, and the tops of the trees – it took him a while, to realise that he wasn't in his animagi form. Not any more.

He heard them calling his name. But as they got closer, the sound of their voices got weaker. He tried to call out to them, but when he opened his mouth, no sound escaped him. He closed his hands around the ground beneath him, and he felt the dirt of the forest floor slip through his fingers. Everything ached, and something warm was beginning to cover his tongue, it tasted metallic and unpleasant. He swallowed thickly, in an attempt to rid himself of the horrid taste, but it returned soon after. Shortly, he couldn't see anything; not even the moon, or the tops of the trees. When he felt hands grab hold of his shoulders, he saw no face above him, only darkness.

"Am I dying?" he managed to mumble as he felt the ground beneath him disappear. It was the gruff voice of Sirius Black that replied,

"Fuck, I hope not."


	2. Chapter One

In the early hours of the morning, as light began to pour through every window in the castle, a matron worked hard over the body of an unconscious young man. A student, to be precise,_ James Potter_. She worked to clean his wounds, to stop his bleeding and heal his broken bones. It was taking time, because of course, there were so many. The usually handsome boy was pale, already covered from head to toe in developing bruises, and so far she had found several broken bones. She tried not to make any noise as she found each one, knowing that another young man was standing on the other side of the thin material she had drawn around the bed. A young man who was already on edge.

Sirius Black paced back and forth, the sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed off the stone walls. He was rubbing the back of his neck roughly as he glanced at the curtain that surrounded James' bed. He strained his ears to try and listen through the curtain, and finally in frustration he growled,

"Well?"

He heard Poppy Pomfrey huff, before pulling back the screen of material ever so slightly to reveal her young yet stern face, "I can't do any good if you keep growling at me like that, Mr Black."

"Just tell me," He said through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes down at the smaller woman, "How bad is he?"

She tutted shortly at his rude demeanour, and roughly pulled the curtain closed again. He was just about to retort through the screen, when the doors to the Hospital Wing opened loudly. He glanced to his left, to see Peter and Remus walking precariously towards him. Peter looked exhausted, after having to deal with Moony alone for the last few hours of the night. Though that was nothing compared to Remus' appearance. He was ghostly white; Sirius was unsure whether that had to do with fatigue or the fact that Remus knew – despite the fact that no one had said so – he knew that it was his fault that James was hurt.

"How bad is he?" Remus said in a tiny voice, avoiding meeting Sirius' gaze as he stared at the curtain, watching the shadowy outline of Poppy Pomfrey work around James' bed. The morning light had begun to fill the room, providing them with a silhouette outline of what lay beyond that curtain. Remus almost wished that he couldn't see; knowing who lay in that bed, and the reason behind why he was there, was enough to churn his stomach.

"Pomfrey won't say," Sirius replied quietly, placing his hand carefully Remus' shoulder, "I'm sure he'll be fine, mate. It's James, he's always fine. Remember that time he fell of his broom mid match? Just climbed back on and kept playing like nothing had happened." He tried to reassure him despite his own concern, but Remus merely shrugged his hand off of his shoulder and fell silent. Sirius tried his best not to feel dejected, and instead he turned to Peter,

"Wormtail, can you go and find Lily and tell her that-?" but as he caught sight of the shorter boy, he found him already asleep in one of the nearby chairs, snoring softly as he leaned his face into his palm, and his elbow into the arm of the chair.

Sirius looked back at Remus, who had settled himself on the edge of an empty bed nearby. Sirius said quietly, "I'll go. Get some rest."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go? I mean, after all… It is my fault." Remus said glumly, looking down at his shoes, the bags beneath his eyes as dark as ever. Sirius scowled at him, and responded swiftly with,

"If you keep talking like that I'm going to push you off the Astronomy Tower, you hear?"

Remus said nothing, merely shrugged and continued to look at the worn out leather of his shoes, as Sirius disappeared from the Hospital Wing. He glanced over at the sleeping heap that was Peter Pettigrew, before focusing his attention to the drawn curtain; he wondered how much longer he had before one of them finally realised what a foolish decision they had made all those years ago. How naïve and stupid they were to befriend a _werewolf_. They'd wisen up before long though; Remus was willing to put money on it. He closed his eyes and laid back on the bed, feeling as his muscles ached and his skin seared.

Remus Lupin hated the full moon.

He hated it more than anything in the world.


	3. Chapter Two

Lily Evans had never run so fast in all her life. She had her shoes in her hands and her shirt was untucked and misbuttoned, but she didn't care. She could hear Sirius' footsteps quick behind her, hot on her heels, but she didn't care. She looked like hell, but she didn't care. All she cared about was James.

She'd hoped it had been some sick joke of Sirius'. She hoped that she would burst through the doors of the Hospital Wing and find James with a tiny scratch on his cheek, he'd smirk and look at her and say, _"Can you kiss it better, Evans?"_

Though she knew Sirius wasn't joking. The look in his eyes and the way his voice cracked when he explained what had happened – there was no way he was kidding, there was just no way he would find any of this funny.

She was short of breath, but she climbed the last set of stairs taking two at a time, and pushed on the double doors.

From then on everything felt like it happened in slow motion, like in the films. She ran towards the only occupied bed in the whole infirmary, the lump in her throat larger than ever. As she neared the bed, as she neared James, the colour drained from her face. Her stomach dropped and she felt like her whole world was crashing down around her.

His unconscious body looked small, and fragile, and broken. His glasses were folded on the side table, his face looked so bare without them. She took a slow, cautious step towards him, and couldn't help but notice the marks on the bridge of his nose, from where those glasses usually sat.

Though, those small marks were insignificant compared to what else covered his face; there was one large bruise that covered the left side of his forehead and over his left eye. It was black with streaks of purple and yellow through it. There was a deep gash across his cheek that was still seeping blood, even though Lily assumed Madam Pomfrey had done her best to stop it. As though that weren't enough to churn her stomach, his left eye was swollen closed; even if he was conscious, Lily suspected he wouldn't be able to open it.

She could sense the boys behind her, silently watching as she touched her hand to the unbruised side of his face. And she knew that though this was difficult on her, she could hardly begin to imagine what hell it must be for them. She gently touched her hand to his unscathed cheek, his skin looked grey and worn, and felt thin as paper beneath her fingers.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Madam Pomfrey explained gently, breaking the silence as she emerged out of her office, "He hasn't woken yet, but can you blame the poor boy? Broken bones all over the place, not to mention bruises and scratches-"

"Oh, god. James…" Lily breathed as she turned her attention back down at the Head Boy, "Why are you such a git?" she asked in a whisper, trying her hardest not to let her tears fall. If she cried, it was like admitting that something was actually wrong.

Remus still sat on the bed beside James', his legs crossed beneath him as he rested his face in his hands. There were no words for the undeniable guilt that was running through his veins. This was his fault, it was entirely his fault and they were all going to hate him, if they didn't already. There was no way he could live with himself after this; If James died, or even if James developed a lycanthropy of his own – Remus couldn't live with that guilt, he just couldn't. His stomach churned at every word out of the matron's mouth, but upon 'scratches' he could take no more. He needed to see the Headmaster, and explain that he could no longer stay at Hogwarts. He was a danger; he always had been; and here was the irrefutable proof. He stood up - and with a last glance at James' still body, the only sign that he was still alive was the soft rise and fall of his chest – he strode swiftly from the Hospital Wing, the sound of his shoes on the stone floor was the only thing echoing off the walls this early in the morning. He listened for the sound of the door shutting behind him, though it never came. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sirius marching towards him,

"Where the _hell_ do you think you're going?"

Remus buried his hands in his pockets, and muttered, "To see Dumbledore."

Sirius screwed his face up; creases' plaguing the young mans usually youthful and carefree features. He placed his hand on Remus' shoulder and turned him around to face him,

"Dumbledore already knows that James is here. He's on his way. You're being a real selfish git just leaving when James needs you, y'know."

Remus pushed Sirius' hand from his shoulder and snapped, "I have to talk to him alone."

"What is so bloody important that you _have_ to talk to him alone?"

"This. All of this."

"What about this?"

"This is all _my_ fault! Do you not understand?"

"Oh, will you stop?" He groaned in frustration, "You've been saying this shit for years and it has never once influenced our opinion, alright? We've been here countless times and we're all still alive and breathing, so I swear to Merlin if you don't grow a pair right now and get back inside, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Remus snarled, rounding on Sirius and standing almost nose-to-nose with him. Sirius was taken aback at the outburst, stumbling back slightly with wide eyes. None of which went unnoticed, Remus' eyes darkened and he let out a grim laugh, "Oh, scared of me? Good. You should be. All three of you should have fucking listened to me in second year. I told you, I _told you_ that getting mixed up with a werewolf would only get one or all of you killed!" He barked, his teeth gritted as his fists balled up by his sides, "But what did you all do? Instead of just leaving me alone like I asked, you put yourselves in danger. You risked your lives once a month for the last three years and here we are, with one of our best mates on his deathbed and who's fault is it? Mine!"

Sirius glared right back at him as he shouted, before he saw the look in Remus' eyes. He wasn't angry. He was frightened. Frightened of what might happen now; frightened of losing James, and in turn losing his friends and everything else. Frightened of being ostracized by the entire wizarding community. Sirius swung his arm and Remus flinched, waiting for the fist to collide with his jaw; but it never came. Instead, an arm had swung around Remus' neck, pulling him into a hug. He was still for a moment, before he suddenly gripped onto Sirius, his fingers closing around the material of Sirius' jumper.

"It's my fault," He choked out against Sirius' shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. "All my fault."

"Shut up, Moony. Just – just shut up."


End file.
